Blind Faith
by WriterJC
Summary: It's about trusting your team unconditionally. Shep whump. Written for farewell to Atlantis Fic-a-thon.


"Wait. Did you hear that?" Sheppard asked in a stage whisper.

"Hear what?" Rodney McKay froze a look of wide-eyed pending panic replacing the half-annoyed expression he'd worn just seconds before. "Oh, never mind." Sheppard looked away, more as a cover to hide the fact that he was screwing with the other man than to actually take in his surroundings. Little had changed since they'd left the jumper behind an hour earlier.

Rodney's disgusted sigh told him more loudly than words that his cover was blown. "There's nothing here worth shooting at, except maybe the creepy no-eyed cows. So, why don't we just end this little field trip to Old MacDonald's visually-challenged farm and let the biologists and botanists have it?"

"They probably taste like chicken, anyway," John replied, as he gave the surrounding greenery another once-over. The aerial survey they'd done earlier had revealed no evidence of human settlements within a 150-mile radius of the 'gate. The denser foliage several miles out suggested hundreds of life signs that all read as vaguely humanoid; hence they'd gone into the forested area on foot and found nothing but the occasional wandering almost-cow and lots and lots and lots of trees.

He turned to Ronon and Teyla. "Anything?"

Ronon shrugged. "I'm with McKay." He looked as bored as John felt.

"Teyla?" John prompted the final member of his team.

"It is odd. The indigenous animals seem peaceful. There is a ready water supply and a means of traveling through the stargate. And yet . . . ."

It was always the 'and yet.' An 'and yet' meant he wasn't sure he was quite ready to sign off on this planet. Uninhabited worlds were usually uninhabited for a reason. Even if the planet had been completely culled, there should have been something left—old buildings, tools, broken down fences. _Something_.

He silently debated their options. This world's sun was at its apex, so they still had a lot of daylight to work with. The weather wasn't anything to complain about. Worse case, they blew a day on a peaceful world.

Teyla suddenly raised a hand. Her brow creased in a frown. "Did you not hear that?"

In a way, it was almost the signal John was waiting for. His P-90 was up and ready, his eyes and ears searching for any hint of danger.

"Oh, come on! I am not falling for that same joke twice in five minutes. And frankly—"

"What is it, Teyla? Wraith?" John cut Rodney off. Teyla would never tease him with a warning like that especially after he'd asked her directly. Her senses had saved all of their lives far too many times.

"No," was her soft reply. A look of concentration washed over her features. "It was a sound, carried on the wind. Almost like a child's cry."

John nodded. That made sense to him in a strange sort of way, and explained why Ronon hadn't mentioned hearing anything yet. He wouldn't be surprised if being a mom had heightened Teyla's sensitiveness in that area. "Rodney, anything on the life signs detector?"

"Just what I'm guessing are random no-eyed bovines. Of course, there could be a monster out there. The life signs detector wouldn't really know the difference."

"I thought you said that there wasn't anything out there worth shooting," John tossed in Rodney's direction.

"So, sue me," the scientist fired back.

"It's over here." Ronon spoke up and headed off to the right, moving around several large stubby blooming palm tree formations and into deeper bush. The team followed as he moved quickly over the uneven terrain. The forest grew thicker as they ran, forcing them to move through the overgrown foliage single file. The sound of water grew louder, and Sheppard thought he remembered this heavily canopied area from the initial fly-over.

A high-pitched mewling sound was abruptly cut off as Ronon came to a halt, his weapon drawn. John crept in closer, and then moved to step around and alongside the taller man.

"I guess that answers that question."

"Yep," Ronon agreed, his eyes locked on the opposite side of a narrow ravine.

Their side dropped twenty or thirty feet into a rock-strewn stream. John was glad of the fifteen or twenty feet that separated them from the opposite side where several dozen mostly naked, mostly human figures were gathered around two miniature versions of this world's cattle. The bloody clubs they wielded explained why the cattle's cry had been short lived.

Dressed only in strips of rough cloth, their skin was caked in dirt and bore long scars that reminded him of third degree burn damage. They had no eyes. Bulges beneath the skin were the only indication that the orbs may have existed at some point in their genetic past. Ridiculously tiny ears and a wide mouth gaping around sharp pointed teeth filled out their facial features.

"Looks like we've interrupted dinner," Rodney announced sotto voce. "Hope that doesn't mean we're next on the menu."

"We don't know that they'll eat us, McKay," John replied, though there wasn't much conviction behind the words. "They can't even see us."

"That's not going to stop them from eating _him_," Ronon gestured toward the baby near-cow. It didn't look like cooking him first was on the agenda.

"And they can definitely smell and hear us," Teyla put in, pointing out the way the ugly cave guys' heads were turning in the team's direction as they sniffed at the air. "Perhaps we should leave them to their acquisitions."

"Great idea," Sheppard agreed wholeheartedly. This had all the markings of something that was not going to end well. He really didn't like the excited grunts he was beginning to hear as more of the almost-people faced toward their side of the ravine.

"Rodney, scan for life signs. Last thing we need are tag-a-longs."

"They're all behind us, I think."

"Good. Let's keep it that way." He set a brisk pace. "The jumper is—"

A deep undulating wail tore through the air and seemed to reverberate all around them.

"Oh crap! We should run!" McKay's panicked announcement was hardly necessary. They all heard the sound of repeated heavy footfalls as the cave men jumped the ravine. And judging by the increased sounds, they were closing in fast. Too fast.

"Try a few warning shots," Sheppard directed. "Maybe we can scare them off." Hopefully. The plan only needed to last long enough to put some distance between themselves and big bad guys with bloody clubs.

John ducked behind one of the stubby palms as he carried out his own orders, firing above the creature's heads and into the taller trees above them. Everyone else did the same. The pursuing footfalls were no longer coming closer—John decided to take that as a win.

He ducked around the tree to get a better look. The half-men were scenting the air again, their over large heads cocked to one side as if listening.

"Okay. We're going to try this again." John ducked back behind the tree and spoke softly into the open channel of his radio. He didn't want to speak too loudly. Not that he thought they could understand him, but one could never tell in this galaxy.

"If by trying again, you mean running for our lives, then I'm all for it."

"Sounds like you've got the basics of the plan, Rodney. Except we're going to do it by twos. You and Teyla are farther out, so you're going to go first. Ronon and I are gonna hang back and throw in a couple more warning rounds. As soon as we start shooting, go."

"Now!" John called into his radio and moved from behind the tree to shoot into the air above the creatures once again. They stumbled all over themselves in an attempt to back away from the loud noises. Their hands clamped over their ears as they jerked about. The larger of the group, though, stood firm, its large head canted downward.

John ducked back behind the tree, and looked over to where Ronon was hiding. Their eyes met and John gestured with a jerk of his head that the Satedan should go with the next round. It wasn't as if his gun made that much noise anyway.

The big man shook his head. "Together." The single word sounded through his earpiece.

John sighed. It was pointless to argue. He simply nodded and signaled a three, two, one count down before they both moved out from their respective hiding places for a final volley of weapon's fire.

John barely caught a glimpse of something sailing through the air, and then his gun was going off. The something narrowly missed his head before it tore through the rubbery-looking fruit nearby. Bits of sap and exploded fruit splattered across his face and neck before he drew back into hiding.

The sticky pulp had a pungent odor that was so strong it burned its way up his nostrils and made his eyes water. "Ronon, you're going to have to stun one of them. Aim for the big guy in the middle. I think he's the leader."

"You got it," Ronon assured.

John registered the stun shots going off twice before he heard the sound of the big one going down. The grunts went crazy then as confusion seemed to spread through the ranks. He had no intention of hanging around to see how long that was going to last.

"Rodney, Teyla, how close are you to the jumper?" John asked as he fast jogged after Ronon. This time, he was the one keeping track of life signs. He didn't want to distract Rodney by asking him to monitor both teams, though he was sure the other man was doing it anyway.

"Not close enough," Rodney groused, sounding out of breath. "Why did we have to go so far into the jungle of no return?"

"Better that we step into it with the natives than a team of botanists," John reminded him.

"We are nearly halfway there, John," Teyla's voice broke in. "Perhaps another ten or fifteen minutes."

"Okay. Keep moving. Let me know when you get to the jumper." Sheppard blinked as the burning in his eyes ratcheted upward. He wiped at them with the wrist of one hand, hoping to clear away the worse of the fruit.

"You okay?" Ronon questioned, eyeing the side of John's neck.

"Yeah. Why?" He used the same hand to try to wipe the mess away from his neck, too and was surprised to find the skin irritated by the simple touch.

"Your neck is all red. Looks like a bad sunburn."

He drew in a breath as the burning intensified. Already it was spreading to the hand he'd used. "Doesn't feel like any sunburn I ever had," he confided. Obviously that fruit was never going on the edible list. He reached for his canteen and quickly removed the lid. They had a ways to go before they would reach Atlantis and burning and irritation was never a good sign.

He poured the water on the go, allowing it to drain over his head and down the side of his face and neck where it then soaked into his shirt and vest. The coolness brought blessed relief to the stinging wounds. He tilted his head and allowed some to pour for a moment over his closed lids.

When the water was gone, he shook his head, hoping to dislodge most of the droplets and squeezed his eyes to get the water from his lashes.

Hot pokers jabbed into both his eyes sending him stumbling to his knees. He had to stifle the urge to bury the heels of his hands into the burning orifices, knowing that would only worsen the situation.

"Sheppard! Sheppard—are you okay?"

John blinked and squinted through tears at Ronon's worried features. The initial shock of the agony had eased, but his eyes were still fairly painful. To add insult to injury, the places where he'd initially been hit with the sap were beginning to burn again.

"I'm good," he told Ronon anyway.

"Need some more water?" Ronon asked.

John didn't think that was such a good idea. The burning was beginning to spread to areas beneath his shirt where the water had gone. It was still at the stinging stage. If it was anything like his face, it would be headed toward "on fire" soon.

"Nah." He shook his head and pushed himself back to a standing position. "We've gotta keep moving. We don't know how long that stun is going to hold them off."

"Anything on that thing?" Ronon gestured toward the LSD as they started moving again.

John blinked his watering, burning eyes and glanced toward the device. The day went dimmer, as if clouds had rolled in. "Great—the last thing we need is rain," he murmured as he thought brighten in the direction of the LSD.

"Huh?" Ronon squinted skyward.

John followed his gaze. The sun was full overhead with only a few fluffy white clouds. What had once appeared as a brilliant blue sky was darkened as if someone had adjusted a brightness knob downward. Cold dread settled into the pit of his stomach.

"What is it?" Ronon asked.

John met his gaze, hoping he didn't look as haunted as he felt. "We've got to hurry." He shoved the ancient device into his tac vest and started off again. There was even less time to waste.

John appreciated that Ronon gave no argument, and simply followed his lead. As his vision gradually dimmed, the pain lessened in his eyes, but the skin on his face and neck continued to sting and welt. As he'd suspected, the same thing felt as if it was happening beneath his shirt as well.

"Rodney, what do the life signs look like?" he asked with measured breaths as he struggled to focus on the terrain ahead of him. His vision was at dusk level. "Any sign of any of those things besides the ones that were after us?"

"No good way to differentiate . . . between the Neanderthals . . . and their cow cousins," Rodney's gasping response came back.

"They travel in packs," Ronon responded.

"Good. That's good," Rodney replied. "Give me a second, while I widen the range . . . . Oh, no . . . . You need to move faster!"

"What is it, Rodney?" John needed to know.

"There are several groups . . . heading your way . . . from three directions! They're moving pretty fast! Faster than you!"

"They must have called in reinforcements," John half-murmured to himself as he increased his jogging speed as much as he dared. "Anything ahead of you and Teyla?"

"No—all the life signs are coming from within the jungle."

John was glad for that. "How close are you to the jumper?"

"Just . . . just . . . a . . . ." Rodney gasped for air.

"Very close - a few minutes more." Teyla's more controlled voice replied for McKay.

"Let me know when you get there." John signed off.

They couldn't be more than a few minutes behind their teammates, but he wasn't sure that he would make it with his vision intact. In the time of the short radio communication has vision had gone from dusk to nightfall. He was struggling to make out the fallen branches amid the tangled greenery that was the forest floor. He was slowing Ronon down. He had to work out a way to make him go on with out him.

He never got the chance.

The darkness came with such suddenness, it was as if he slammed into a massive wall of blackness. In that moment his equilibrium was shot all to hell and there was nothing he could do to prevent himself from falling.

He rolled and tried to get to his feet and was half crouched when he realized that he had no idea which direction he needed go. An instant of panic seized him before he caught the sound of Ronon's voice calling to him. His ears latched on to that input.

Ronon grabbed his arm and pulled him the rest of the way to his feet and dragged him onward. His feet tried to tangle beneath him and he half stumbled again. He had to find a way to . . . .

"Don't even think about asking me to leave you." Ronon cut into his train of thought. "We can do this. I'll guide you. You just have to trust me."

John hesitated.

"I'll stun you and carry you if I have to," Ronon warned.

John nodded once, not sure he trusted his voice. And then he allowed himself to be led along by the large hand on his shoulder. Ronon started at a walk, warning when he needed to step to the side. He then increased to fast walk, and then a jog.

He'd never admit to anyone how terrifying it was to run in complete darkness. He constantly felt as if he was going to tip to one side or stumble forward. But Ronon's hand was there, helping him to stay upright. It helped when he reached his own arm up to grasp hold of Ronon's.

They fell into a rhythm and John thought he could even tell that they were getting nearer to the edge of the forest because the ground was becoming less tangled. Some of the fear began to drain away.

"We're at the jumper!" The words sounding in his ears startled him out of his concentration sending him lurching too far to one side. He just managed to stay upright by grabbing tighter hold of Ronon's arm. He had to let go to activate his radio.

"Good. We're right behind you." John said, and then heard the sound that he'd hoped to avoid. "And they're right behind us. Keep the door open. I think this is going to be a photo-finish. Sheppard out."

John pushed himself to run faster, giving himself over completely to Ronon's lead. Still the pounding footfalls were growing closer. Then the battle cry from hell sounded, louder than before.

"I'm going to let go, Sheppard!" Ronon yelled. "Keep going straight ahead! I'll hold them off."

"No! We fight together, remember? Where are they?"

"Directly behind."

"Okay. Now!"

They skidded to a halt and John did the fastest about face on record as he pulled his 9 mil from its holster and fired in the direction of the oncoming enemy. Ronon's blaster went off beside him. Grunts and screams rose from the pack, but the footfalls slowed.

"Come on!" Ronon's hand was once again on his shoulder and he turned beneath it and they were off again. The larger mob recovered more quickly than the previous bunch. They were again on their trail much too soon. Ronon made the occasional shot over their shoulders, but it seemed to barely slow them down.

"John!" Rodney's voice sounded over the radio.

"Busy, Rodney!" John yelled, struggling for breath.

"We think we know why there are no life signs outside of the forest. The jumper was able to pick up hypersonic emissions between the creatures and the trees and plants of the forest. It's like a form of echolocation that allows them to sense the things around them. They won't leave the forest because everything outside of it would seem like the edge of the world. They would have no perception of anything beyond it."

"So, we'll be safe . . . outside of the forest?"

"Yes."

"How close!?"

"45 meters!"

"English, Rodney!"

"That was . . . never mind, er . . . 35 yards! A third of a football field!"

It was like a countdown as he and Ronon ran for their lives in an effort to escape. John could smell a sour dirt odor that he was beginning to identify with the half-men creatures. Sweat poured down his body, adding salt to the still burning areas of his skin.

"Fifteen yards! You should see the jumper by now."

_Yeah, about that. _

"Five yards! And, you're out!"

John wasn't sure what his foot caught on, but they'd just gotten the all clear from Rodney when he felt it. He and Ronon went down in a tangle of limbs on level ground.

Safe, on the outside of the Forest of Doom, John just lay there and tried to catch his breath. He heard Ronon moving around to one side of him, and the angry yelling of the creatures on the edge of the woods. If he never heard the sound of those things again, it would be too soon.

He rolled over and pushed himself upward, more than ready to get the heck outta Dodge. Suddenly, the creature screams were louder, and in the next moment, something hard slammed into his side. The rank dirt smell was so strong he could practically taste it in the air, and then he was slammed back down toward the ground. His head bounced hard against the loamy soil. Sound went hazy around the edges.

He thought he heard someone screaming his name and the sound of weapons fire before the weight of the creature was removed from him. He very clearly caught Rodney's voice yelling "That's not supposed to happen! What was that?! That wasn't supposed to happen!"

Everything shifted then, and Ronon's voice vibrated distantly. "We got him, Sheppard. Everyone's safe. We're going home."

He closed his eyes and ears and let it all dissolve.

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John woke to the familiar sounds and smells of the Atlantis infirmary. He drew in a deeper breath which pulled at aching abused and abraded skin along his neck and down his side. Unpleasant memories of the Neanderthal world returned, sending his eyes wide open.

Darkness greeted him, followed closely by panic. He was still blind.

"Ronon? Rodney? Teyla?" His voice was a croaking whisper as he began to move, looking for a call button or something that would get someone's attention. He was here, all alone in the dark and his team was missing. They wouldn't leave him like this unless they had no choice. At least one of them was always there when he woke in the infirmary.

He ignored the sting in the side of his hand as he jarred a bedside cart sending something plastic crashing to the floor.

"Wha-?!" Rodney's grouchy, sleep-hazed voice was like water in the desert. His words were quickly followed by the sounds of the other waking members of his team. They all converged on him from different areas of the room.

"We are glad to see you awake, John," Teyla's warm voice poured over him. There was genuine pleasure in her tone and he could visualize the smile in her eyes.

"How you feeling?" Ronon's voice rumbled in his direction, his voice was equally friendly and demonstrative of the expression on the other man's face.

"I'm still blind," John replied.

Rodney spoke at last. "Oh, really? You're blind? I don't remember you actually telling us that. I think I would have remembered something like that."

John rolled his eyes. "There wasn't time, Rodney."

"Oh—two seconds, tops, would have done it."

"But what would have been the point? I would have still been blind. Speaking of which..."

"Doctor Keller says that your vision will return in a few days," Teyla jumped in to reassure him. "Plants which have the ability to cause such blindness are common on many worlds. The burns will also heal completely."

"Thank you, Teyla. That's good to know." He was sure to direct his sarcasm in Rodney's direction. "So, why am I still in the infirmary?"

"Oh, that . . . ." and John could picture Rodney's gestures which demonstrated his discomfort. "That's because of the mild, very mild concussion you received when the . . . uh, Neanderthal guy clubbed you. Jennifer wanted to keep you for observation."

"Speaking of that—I thought they couldn't sense anything beyond the forest."

"Well, they can't, couldn't. But, turns out you still had bits of the pulp of that fruit on you, which have the same biochemical receptors as the rest of the trees so . . . ."

"I was a marked man."

"Yeah. Basically."

"Well, thank you. Thank all of you."

"What for?" Rodney voiced the question, but John could sense the curious looks from Teyla and Ronon.

"For doing what you always do. For being a great team."


End file.
